Brutal Reality
by Angel H
Summary: What if what we perceived to be reality was just a dream from which we could not awak


## 

"Brutal Reality"

### by Angel H.

#### [limwyvern@hotmail.com][1]

*Set during and immediately after "Angels of the Night". 

*Summary: What if what we perceive to be the real world is just a dream, and reality is a nightmare from which we can't wake up? 

*Disclaimer: All character of the show "Gargoyles" and the show itself are property of Disney/Buena Vista Productions. (As if you didn't know that already!) :-) 

*Random ramblings: Hi! I've been a long time follower of the "Gargoyles" show and the fan fiction, but this is the first time I've had one of my works published. I have started other works-in-progress, but they're still on the drawing board. I just want to warn that this story may not be very plausible (or is it? - Think about about that one); it was just one of those things that popped into my head when I was laying in bed thinking "What if. . ?" I would also like to warn you that this story is pretty sad, so you might want to grab a hankie. 

*Okay. . [takes deep breath]. . here we go: 

> When I get up 
> 
> I don't know if I'm truly awake, 
> 
> Or if I'm still dreaming. 
> 
> --"Dream" 
> 
> Forest for the Trees 

On the side of the train tracks, the crowd cheered for the gargoyles' act of heroism. Ironically just minutes before, they were being regarded as monsters, and now the world realized that they, in fact, were the real monsters for being prejudiced against a race of beings that they knew nothing about. 

Elisa pushed her way through the crowd and called out to the gargoyle leader. "Goliath!" 

He looked up and his eyes lit up when he saw the woman he loved. "Elisa!" She ran up to him, and he wrapped his arms around her small form in a loving embrace. They had come so far together, fighting to protect the ones they loved, fighting for acceptance, and fighting for their very right to live. Now, they had finally won. 

Everything was right in their world. 

* * *

Elisa awoke the next morning with a tear in her eye. She'd dreamt about them again last night. Her gargoyle friends had gained acceptance and were now revered for the noble heroes they were. 

Everything was perfect. 

Why can't real life be that way? 

Elisa suddenly realized that she had a splitting headache. She slowly sat up in bed and winced as the weight on her arm caused the pain to flare up in her bruised muscles. She turned and noticed the vacant space next to her, the sheets still turned up towards the pillow. 

He never came home last night . 

Elisa sighed as she carefully lifted herself off of the bed and walked towards the bathroom. When she turned on the light, a haggard figure caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. 

It was her reflection in the mirror. 

Elisa closed her eyes and slowly made her way towards the mirror. She imagined looking in the mirror and the woman in her dream looking back at her. She imagined her beautiful black hair cascading down her back, her sparkling brown eyes, and the stature of an independent woman who had remained strong despite the various adversaries with which she was faced. 

Elisa then opened her eyes and stared at the mirror. The girl looking back at her ahd short, cropped hair because her husband said he was tired of it getting in the way when he held her close. Her eyes were red and weary (one of them was almost swollen shut from where he had hit her), and instead of a proud and graceful woman, a frightened waif stood in front of her with her shoulders sagging. 

Elisa gently touched her bruised eye with her slender fingers and thought about the woman in her dream. '_She_ wouldn't have let this happen,' she said to herself. 'She would've left a long time ago.' 

A small wail in the next room pulled her out of her reverie. Elisa rushed out of the bathroom and into the room down the hall. 

The nursery. 

Elisa walked into the room and Angelica began to calm down almost immediately. She lifted the baby girl in her arms - straining somewhat because of her sore muscles - and whispered soothing words in her ear until the beautiful infant was quiet. She kissed the baby's fat cheeks and contemplated her child's future. She wanted Angelica to grow up to be smart, dedicated, caring, and lovely like Angela in her dream. She wanted her daughter to soar past her limits and use all of her potential to the fullest. 

'I want her to be better than me,' Elisa thought. 

"But first you've got to realize that you're better than what you've become." 

Startled, Elisa turned around to face the source of the voice that was incredibly identical to her own. There, standing in front of the door in plain sight, was her hero - the woman in her dream: Detective Elisa Maza, Second Class, of the NYPD, friend of the mythical gargoyles, and all-around superwoman. 

The first Elisa blinked her eyes a few times, but the image of the woman still remained. "Huh. . .what?" 

"You've got to leave this environment," the detective told her. "You're only hurting yourself if you stay here." 

Elisa began to pace with the baby still in her arms. "No," she said shaking her head. "I can't leave. Besides, running away never solved anything." 

"You're not running away; you're running ahead," Maza pointed out. "You deserve better than this. You're a young, bright, and beautiful woman; don't sell yourself short." 

Elisa snorted. "I'm just some secretary," she said, hanging her head low to her chest. "And I'm not pretty at all. Look at these scars and this bruise," she exclaimed, pointing to her neck and face. She grabbed a small lock of her hair. "My hair!. . . It's gone now. No one else would want me anyway." 

The baby in the young woman's arms squirmed and wrapped her tiny arms around her mother's neck and laid her head on her shoulder as if to give her a hug and say, "It's alright, Mommy; I'll always be there for you." 

Maza walked up to them. "What about Angelica?" she asked in a low, quiet voice. 

Elisa shook her head wildly. "Oh no," she said. "He's never hit her." 

Maza shook her head. "That's no guarantee that he never will." She looked her double right in the eye. "It's not safe for either of you here. You have to leave and you have to leave now!" 

"Where am I supposed to go? I can't go to my brother's because he's dead, I can't go to my parents' house because my sister's run off to God-knows-where, my father's dead, and my mother's still not speaking to me because I ran off and eloped." The room began to blur as tears flowed freely from her eyes. "I can't go back there," she told the vision. "I can't go back and admit that I was wrong." 

"That's all a part of life," Maza said. "It's all about making mistakes and learning from them." Elisa turned away from her and began pacing again, bouncing the baby in her arms. "You have to hold your head high and be strong. . .for Angelica." 

Elisa stopped in her tracks and looked down at the baby girl in her arms. She found herself being pulled into Angelica's deep, brown eyes and momentarily saw the world through the eyes of innocence. She saw herself being thrown around the room by the man who had promised to love and cherish her for all time. She saw herself cowering in the corner begging for mercy, glancing apologetically at the crying baby sitting in her high-chair. Elisa pulled herself out of her daughter's eyes and looked at the baby's face, which was looking back at her expectantly. 

'What kind of role model am I to you?' she said silently the infant. 'I can't even look people in the eye and I expect you to grow up and get away from this kind of life.' Elisa closed her eyes and started to cry again. 'You'll probably end up the same way. I can't let that happen!' 

Elisa felt something on her shoulder. She looked up and saw her alter ego standing next to her with a smile on her face and a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her touch felt warm like the sun shining on your skin, and yet, it was intangible. Elisa smiled back and straightened her shoulders. Then she set the baby back in her crib and headed for her bedroom, relishing the sound of her daughter's tiny hands clapping in an approving applause. 

* * *

About an hour later, Elisa had everything packed and was ready to go. She had a backpack strapped to her back filled with toiletries and clothes. Over her left shoulder, she carried Angelica's baby bag, and in her right hand she carried her daughter in her carrier. 

When she opened the door to leave, her feet froze to the floor. She stood in terror at what stood before her. 

Her husband had come back. 

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked her, backing her into the apartment. 

Elisa hung her head in fear and was about to put all of the belongings back in their rightful spot when she her daughter looking up at her from the carrier. 

'You hold your head high and be strong. . .for Angelica.' 

Elisa gathered all of her courage and looked at her husband straight in the eye. "I'm leaving," she told him, "and I'm taking Angelica with me." 

He just stood there for a moment, but then he broke out in fits of laughter. "Oh, no you're not," he said. "Who do you think you're kidding?" 

"I'm not kidding anybody," she calmly replied. "We're leaving, and we're not coming back." she made her way for the door, but he blocked her path. She pushed by him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards into the apartment. 

"You're not going anywhere," he said approaching her. 

Elisa ducked out of the way and grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter. "Stay back!" she yelled. 

He laughed at her again and made his way towards her. "Cute, real cute," he said. "Now put that down before you hurt yourself." 

He made a move to grab her again, but she swiped at his arm with the blade. He yelped and clutched his arm as the blood seeped between his fingers. 

"I said stay back!" she spat through clenched teeth. Tears stung in her eyes as she jabbed the knife towards him. He jumped back, giving her plenty of room and watched helplessly as she walked out of the door and out of his life. 

* * *

The next day, her husband awoke to a loud knocking at the door. He groggily made his way to the entrance to the apartment and opened the door. Three police officers stood on the other side. "Sir," one of them said, "you're under arrest for assault and battery." The other two officers moved on either side of the man in order to restrain him in the cuffs. 

He was led out of his apartment building and out to the street while neighbors looked on, watching the spectacle before them. He ground his teeth in anger and humiliation. As the officers put him in the patrol car, he happened to glance across the street. Standing defiantly, with her arms crossed, her head held high, and legs apart, was Elisa Maza: mother, protector. . . 

And all-around superwoman. 

So, what did you think? As I said before, this idea just popped into my head one morning. I know it's hard to imagine Elisa cowering and not beating that guy to a pulp, but that's what alternate realities are for. Before I close and before people start sending me hate mail, I want to clarify a couple of things: 1.) In case you didn't understand (a few people that have already read it were somewhat confused), this story speculates the possibilty that the whole "Gargoyles" series and everything in their world was the creation of a woman who desperately needed to escape from her reality. 2.) DO NOT ASSUME ANYTHING ABOUT THE IDENTITY OF THE HUSBAND. I purposely left his name a mystery because, frankly, I couldn't really find anyone in the "Gargoyles" universe that would fit the character just right. In other words, he's just some nameless face. Okay, with that cleared up and out of the way, I would _love_ to hear your comments and constructive criticism. Please e-mail me at: 

[limwyvern@hotmail.com][1]

P.S. I have more stories coming, but I promise that none of them will be in the same universe as this one (unless you want them to be ;-). 

   [1]: mailto:limwyvern@hotmail.com



End file.
